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She sighs before leaning forward to get a better look at the pond. “Yeah. But our families don’t exactly get along. So, there’s that.” She blows out a breath. “And who the hell would be dumb enough to fight for me? Hello, look at my family. It’s a fucking freak show.”
I scrunch my nose up. “Look … I really want to tell you that you’re exaggerating. But the truth is, your family is pretty awful. I mean, I don’t know many people who lock people inside their rooms or beat them with their belts. So, yeah, they’re fucking cray-cray.”
She laughs, snorting a little bit. She wipes under her eyes as moisture gathers there, and when she stills, she gives me a small smile. “You know, it probably shows how screwed up in the head we are, right? The fact that we joke about this terrible shit that would scar most people for life?”
I think about my next words for a minute, looking back at Rossi as he stands a short distance behind us, looking out at the pond from a different spot on the trail.
“I think that if we lost our sense of humor in it all, we’d probably never survive the shit life has thrown at us.” I exhale. “We’d better head back. The last person’s radar I want to find myself on right now is your dad’s.”
“Same,” she utters, and when I start to turn back, she catches my hand. “Briar?”
“Yeah?”
“For what it’s worth, I’m really sorry for anything my family has done to you. I can only hope they’ll get what’s coming to them soon enough.”
Giving her a tiny nod, I shrug. “It’s all good, Gia. We’ll get out of this. Somehow.” I give her a teasing smirk. “And if not, at least you get to marry my sweet, handsome … non-psychotic brother. It could always be worse. You could have to marry someone like your brother instead.”
“Huh,” she says thoughtfully. “Never thought of that, I guess.”
The day is here for me to put Beckett in his place. Enzo didn’t come here, and I’m going to handle Beckett in a way that he and Marco won’t suspect that I’m up to something much, much bigger. The entire plan is coming together, and I’m a fucking wreck for what is to come after today.
I needed to sneak Poppy in here. Because the second I stand up and put a stop to the wedding that’s about to happen, Walker is going to want his girl. But to get her here, she needed a disguise. One she looks less than thrilled to wear.
“This is so stupid,” Poppy whispers to me, clearly annoyed, as she looks down at herself. “Why do you get to look like James Bond, and I’m over here, looking like I just stepped out of the Cake Boss show?”
I keep my face straight, only smirking a little when she points to the hat on her head.
“A baker’s hat? Really?” She shakes her head. “Here I am, supposed to be looking like hot shit to remind Walker he’s not marrying that incredibly sexy Monica Bellucci look-alike. Only from, like, thirty years earlier. And you got me showing up here, looking like the Pillsbury Doughboy.” She continues to glare at me. “You are so not allowed to be in charge of our disguises anymore.”
“First off, why are we suddenly tied into having disguises together?” I shrug, unfazed. “Second, I’m friends with the lady who owns the bakery that Beckett ordered this annoyingly huge cake from. So, getting her to let us deliver it was an easy in.” I point to her black wig and glasses. “Besides, Beckett will never notice you behind the cake when you look so different.”
“Yeah, unless he notices my chest looks a little too flat in this white jacket. Then, Dr. Boobs will suddenly be using his nephew’s wedding day to drum up some business,” she growls. “Come on. Let’s get this over with. Run through the plan one more time.”
“Once we’re in, I guarantee it won’t take Walker long to spot you. But he’s going to play it cool. Once it’s time for the ceremony, it will only be the Romanos, Walker, Briar, Natasha, and Beckett. He’s hired me to be on standby to make sure nothing goes south. You’ll be hiding behind the ginormous, stupid fucking cake that I can’t stand the sight of—”
“Do you have something against cake?” she blurts out, cutting me off. “Twice, you’ve talked about this cake in a negative way.” She points to it. “It’s cake. A huge, beautiful, likely delicious cake. What’s to hate?”
I do hate the cake. I hate the sight of it. I fucking hate weddings altogether because they are just another reminder that the woman I married is dead. But I’m not about to tell Poppy all of that. Today is going to be a happy day for her.
“There’s hardly anyone coming to this. Why the fuck do they need a cake this big?” is all I give her.
“I have no idea, but is it weird that I want to take some home?” She says the words as serious as a heart attack. Like she’s actually pondering what she just said. “Yeah, okay, it’s weird. Do I care? Hell no. I’m taking it home. My roommates will love it.”
I stare at her, unsure of what to even say. It’s cake that we’re talking about. Why the fuck is she talking about the cake and bringing it home to her roommates when we literally have a wedding to stop?
Poppy gives me a strange look before she attempts to signal something to me. Eventually, I figure out she’s trying to tell me to turn around. And when I do, I swear my heart stops beating, and it takes everything inside of me not to run toward the woman walking toward us and kiss her senseless. But that isn’t in the plan. Pretending like we don’t give a fuck about each other? That’s the plan. Because there are too many eyes on her right now. And people thinking that there are no ties between Briar and me is the only way the next step in the plan is going to work.
The plan where we send her back to Enzo so that she can lead us to Vittoria Island.
I stiffen. Thoughts of us never finding her or something happening before she gets there are damn near unbearable. But the Romanos will never let her be free from them. This is the only way that everyone wins.
“Hudson,” Briar says with no emotion.
Good job, baby. Play the part. Look at me like you hate my guts while I picture fucking you next to the house during the ceremony.
“Briar.” I give her a curt nod, letting my eyes drink her in for a moment too long, but I can’t fucking help it because she’s all I’ve thought about since the last night we spent together.
“Didn’t realize you were working today,” she utters, still coming off completely unimpressed.
